He is With Us

By Rabbi Pinchos Lipschutz

The Ramchal (Derech Hashem, Avodas Hazeman, Sukkah) discusses the ananei hakavod that protected the Jewish people in the midbar. He says that they consisted of six clouds that surrounded the Jewish people on all sides and a seventh cloud that paved the way for them, straightening out the ground they were to traverse upon and killing all matters of pestilence on the way.

While the ananim appeared to offer only physical protection, directing the nation as they traveled to Eretz Yisroel and keeping their enemies at bay, there was also a spiritual shield. As the ananim surrounded them, the Jews were able to understand that they were a chosen people and separate from all the nations of the world. The ananim thus signified for the Jewish people that they lived on a higher, more spiritual plane than everyone else. That awareness helped them live up to their potential to serve as a holy nation.

While we no longer have the ananim to protect us physically, the spiritual component of their task is still prevalent. There is a spiritual light that emanates from Shomayim and surrounds the tzaddikim, separating and raising them from the others. Tzaddikim, though they are with us in this world, are removed from many of the physical aspects of our lives and operate on a higher, spiritual level.

Famously, the Vilna Gaon barely slept more than two hours a night. Rav Aharon Leib Shteinman subsisted on 150 grams of porridge each day. Living among us, Rav Chaim Kanievsky learns virtually all day, much as his father-in-law, Rav Yosef Shalom Elyashiv, did. Tzaddikim are motivated by different things than regular mortals, who have not perfected their thoughts, impulses and appetites for fleeting pursuits.

The Ramchal writes that on Sukkos, all of Klal Yisroel is surrounded by the walls and roof of the sukkah, which are reminiscent of the ananei hakavod that surrounded the Jews in the midbar, setting them apart. When we sit in the sukkah under the tzeila demeheimnusah, we are on a different level, separated from everyone and everything.

To understand the depth of this statement, we quote the Maharal (Chiddushei Aggados, Rosh Hashanah 16b), who discusses the difference between the life of a tzaddik and the life of a rosha. A tzaddik is connected to Hashem, the Source of all life, whereas a rosha, even when he is alive, is disconnected from Hashem. A tzaddik is therefore referred to as alive even after his neshomah has passed into the other world, because he remains connected to Hashem, as he was in this world. A rosha is referred to as dead, because even in this world he is not connected to the Source of life.

With this, we can understand what the Ramchal writes in his peirush to the Rosh Hashanah machzor. He states that when we say “chaim,” it refers to those upon whom the kedusha shines and connects to, for they are the ones who are connected to the Source of all life and are thus considered living.

On Sukkos, everyone who enters a sukkah is connected to Hashem on the level of the great tzaddikim. We now have a new understanding of the widely quoted Zohar that says that when we sit in the sukkah, we are b’tzeila demeheimnusah. In the sukkah, the light of kedusha shines upon us as it shines upon tzaddikim all year. On Sukkos, we have a special connection to Hashem.

This is why on Sukkos we are joyous, as the posuk (Devorim 16:14-15) states, “Vesomachta bechagecha vehoyisa ach someiach.” Sukkos is Zeman Simchoseinu, because on these days, we can attain the highest levels that man can reach.

The Tur (625) asks that the sukkah mentioned in the posuk (Vayikra 23:42-43) refers to the ananei hakavod, which protected the Jews upon their exit from Mitzrayim. Therefore, it should follow that the Yom Tov of Sukkos, which commemorates the ananei hakavod, should be during Nissan, the month the Jews left Mitzrayim, and not during Tishrei, following the Yomim Noraim.

The Vilna Gaon (Shir Hashirim 1:4) is mechadeish that the ananei hakavod we commemorate on Sukkos are not those clouds that surrounded and protected the Jewish people when they left Mitzrayim. If we were commemorating them, Sukkos would be during Nissan. Rather, what we are celebrating on Sukkos is that Hashem returned his Shechinah, via the ananim, to the Jewish people following the sin of the Eigel. When the Jews sinned, Hashem removed His Shechinah and the ananim from them. Moshe Rabbeinu ascended the mountain to plead for forgiveness and returned on Yom Kippur. The next day, 11 Tishrei, he addressed the Bnei Yisroel and informed them of the mitzvah of constructing the Mishkon. He appealed to the people to donate the materials necessary to build the Mishkon, which would be the dwelling place of the Shechinah.

The Torah relates (“baboker baboker,” Shemos 36:3) that the people brought their donations for the next two days, the 12th and 13th of Tishrei. On the 14th of Tishrei, the builders of the Mishkon weighed, measured and accepted the gold and other materials from Moshe. On the 15th, they began to build. The clouds returned as the construction of the Mishkon began.

Sukkos, says the Vilna Gaon, celebrates the return of the Shechinah cloud that was dependent on the construction of the Mishkon. That happened on the 15th of Tishrei, the first day of Sukkos.

His explanation answers a question posed by the Chasam Sofer who asked that the ananei hakavod protected the Jews every day of the year in the desert, why is it that we only commemorate them on Sukkos and what connection does the holiday of Sukkos have with the protective clouds. With the revelation of the Gaon that we are celebrating the return of the ananim on the first day of Sukkos, this Yom Tov is the perfect time to commemorate that.  

Rav Meir Simcha of Dvinsk (Meshech Chochmah, Shemos 23:16) strengthens what the Gaon says, stating that prior to the deliverance of the second Luchos (Shemos 23:16 and 34:22), the Torah refers to the Yom Tov as “Chag Ha’asif.” It is only later on (Devorim 16:13) that the Torah refers to the Yom Tov as “Chag HaSukkos.”

Observing Sukkos during Tishrei following the Yomim Noraim has an added bonus in that it brings us to the level that the Jews were on following Hashem’s acceptance of their teshuvah after the chet ha’Eigel. Just as Hashem returned his Shechinah to them and shined the light of his countenance upon them, so too, following our teshuvah, Hashem shines His light upon us b’tzeila demehemnusah, in the sukkah.

This may also be why on Sukkos we merit visits from the Ushpizin, because we are on the level of great tzaddikim, with the special ohr shining upon us and with a direct connection to kedusha. It is only on Sukkos that the avos can visit with us mortals.

Since the sukkah envelops us with kedusha, we perform the mitzvah of sukkah with our entire body, unlike other mitzvos, such as tefillin, which we do with our arms and head.

With this, we can understand the ruling of the Mishnah Berurah (639:2) that when inside the sukkah, we should discuss Torah and holy matters and minimize mundane and silly talk. He adds that we must be careful not to speak lashon hora or rechilus there.

When we sit in the sukkah, we are b’tzeila demeheimnusa, with Hashem’s light shining upon us as we are connected to Hashem. Since lashon hora causes the Shechinah to depart, we are cautioned to abstain from speaking lashon hora in the sukkah. Also, in order to maintain the special, rare and holy connection, we must prove ourselves worthy of it.

We hope that the new year will prove to be an improvement over the year that thankfully has ended. Many are still suffering from the ravages of the virus, which is not yet done with us. Many of our brethren around the world are unable to daven in a shul and those in Eretz Yisroel are under lockdown. Nobody knows what the winter will bring or how the U.S. elections will turn out. We turn our eyes heavenward and pray for the best. But this should not put a damper on our personal simcha during z’man simchoseinu. We must rejoice in the mitzvos and the opportunities for spiritual growth and satisfaction.

The Vilna Gaon said that the most difficult mitzvah to perform is the obligation to be happy on Yom Tov, “Vesomachta b’chagecha vehoyisa ach someiach.” The mitzvah obligates us to be in a state of happiness for the duration of Sukkos, even in the face of troubling or tragic situations that may befall us and can cast a specter of gloom.

In prior generations, observing the mitzvah of sukkah didn’t always come easy. Zoning laws banning construction of “sheds” were used to deter Jews from building a sukkah, and that was from the easier problems. In the concentration camps, life was no simple matter and a sukkah presented its own challenges. Jews were moser nefesh, endangering their very lives for the opportunity to partake of their meager rations b’tzeila demeheimnusa.

As they sat on the floor of their humble sukkahs, they felt the warm embrace of the holy light and the kedusha. Despite their privations, with intense simcha d’mitzvah, they joyfully recited the brocha of “asher kideshanu b’mitzvosav v’tzivonu leisheiv basukkah,” thanking Hashem for sanctifying them and commanding them to sit in the sukkah, despite the difficulties involved. And then they made the brocha of shehecheyonu, thanking Hashem for keeping them alive in that awful time.

Nothing any of us is going through compares to what Jews experienced in Auschwitz and the many other camps. Nothing is comparable to being confronted by a pogrom, or the Inquisition, or the Crusaders, or the rabid anti-Semitism of the church and the communists and the socialists. Yet in all periods, Jews observed the mitzvos of sukkah and dalet minim with devotion, fervor and inner joy.

When we see a sukkah, we are looking at proof that even today we are not alone. The Shechinah is with us. When we see people surround the bimah holding aloft their dalet minim, we are witnessing proof that “netzach Yisroel lo yeshakeir.” Life can be tough, pandemics are rough, but there is no reason to be down and depressed.

We look forward to the day when we will merit sitting in “sukkas oro shel Livyoson” with the coming of Moshiach speedily in our day.

This is The Year

By Rabbi Pinchos Lipschutz

After a month of preparation, we are now at Rosh Hashanah, when Hashem judges all people. We have been given Elul to rectify that which we have done wrong so that we may be judged favorably.

At the time of creation, Hashem realized that the world would not be able to exist if it were run strictly according to din, which would exact immediate punishment when people sin. He therefore added rachamim, mercy, to din, and created the idea of teshuvah, granting a person the ability to erase sin from his ledger and absolve himself from punishment.

Teshuvah is applicable throughout the year, but Elul and Aseres Yemei Teshuvah are times of rachamim, when Hashem is closer to us, representing an opportune time for us to consider the way we behaved throughout the year and express regret for the times we erred. Teshuvah will be accepted and the sinner will be immediately welcomed back into Hashem’s embrace, as the posuk says, “Dirshu Hashem behimatzo, kera’uhu bihiyaso karov - Seek out Hashem when He is found, call out to Him when He is close.” Now is when He is found and close.

If a person sinned with improper middos, how can he know if his teshuvah is complete?

The Rama (at the end of siman 582) says that on Rosh Hashanah, people should wish each other, “Leshanah tovah tikoseiv. May you be inscribed for a good year.”

The Mogein Avrohom (ibid.) writes that people should wish each other, “Leshanah tovah tikoseiv veseichoseim,” adding to the blessing that the recipient should not only be written for a good year, but also that their good fate should be sealed. He explains that this is on account of the obligation to view others as tzaddikim, who are immediately sealed on Rosh Hashanah for a good year.

If someone is able to view his contemporaries as tzaddikim, it is an indication that he has successfully committed teshuvah and can view others favorably. Someone who wishes other people, “Leshanah tovah tikoseiv veseichoseim,” is no longer encumbered by middos ra’os and views other people in a positive light.

Humility is an indication that the process of teshuvah has been completed. The question is how we get there.

The Gemara in Maseches Taanis (30b) discusses the concept that the most joyous days for Klal Yisroel are the fifteenth of Av and Yom Kippur. The Gemara explains that it is easy to understand the greatness of Yom Kippur, because on that day, Jews can be forgiven for their sins, and the second set of Luchos was bequeathed to Klal Yisroel. The original Luchos were broken by Moshe Rabbeinu upon his return to earth and seeing the Bnei Yisroel celebrating with the Eigel.

It would seem that the two occurrences of the day are intertwined. Not only was the re-giving of the Luchos on Yom Kippur a sign that Klal Yisroel had been forgiven for the sin of the Eigel, but the power of the Luchos is the power of the Torah. It is the Torah that raises man and brings him closer to Hashem, enabling his sins to be forgiven.

A person who dedicates his life to Torah becomes sanctified and his life takes on added meaning. Just as teshuvah allowed the dor hamidbor to recover after sinning with the Eigel, it allows the sinner in our day to return to Hashem’s embrace.

We seek to become closer to Hashem. Torah is the prime method of accomplishing that. When we study the word of Hashem, it attaches us to Him.

As we ponder the awesomeness of the day of judgment, the yom hadin, we engage in teshuvah, tefillah and tzedakah to remove the barrier that separates us from Hashem.

We daven and ask Hashem to view us “im kevonim im ka’avodim,” either as children and pity us as a father pities his offspring or as slaves and recognize that our gaze is fixed upon Him until we find favor in His eyes and are judged favorably.

Thus, we recite twice daily the kappitel of L’Dovid, for it refers to our bitachon in Hashem: “ori veyishi, our light and our hope.” Even as others abandon us, seek to entrap us, and declare war on us, “bezos ani voteiach,” we maintain our faith that Hashem will assist us. During the Yomim Noraim period, as the Soton seeks to prevent us from getting closer to Hashem and disparages us before Him, we believe that He will look upon us with kindness and love.

Rosh Hashanah is the day when our fates are decided. The day is awesome and frightening. Everything that will happen in the coming year is decided on this day.

Tof Shin Pey was a tough year. Who didn’t experience difficulties in the outgoing year? There was much good, for which we are indeed grateful. We made it through the year. We have what to eat and where to live. Many other things went the way we would like. We should never take that, or anything, for granted.

But now, at the outset of the new year, we stand like poor people, begging for life and that we be spared from the tribulations that we endured throughout the year, which is thankfully ending. We seek sources of merit that will shield us from the din, from anguish and agony, and from despair.

People seek to find happiness in their lives and aren’t able to. People look for menuchas hanefesh, shidduchim, nachas, good health, and more, knowing that on Rosh Hashanah, our fates for the upcoming year are decided.

We promise to mend our ways. We say that we have examined our actions of the previous year and will do what we must to merit the gift of another year.

How do we clean our slate and earn a better year?

How does a person arrive at teshuvah?

Doing so requires conducting a serious cheshbon hanefesh. We undertake a personal scrutiny and review our conduct through the year. Then we set about correcting our character flaws and rectifying the mistakes and errors of judgments we made.

We think about the times we were lackadaisical about performing a mitzvah, and if there was an aveirah, we must remove its remnants and resolve to be more serious about the mitzvos and the Torah. We regret improper actions, words and thoughts until Hashem can proclaim that we are cleansed and will not engage again in the inappropriate conduct.

We emerge from the process changed. Teshuvah is humbling, as it reminds us of our mortality and tenuous hold on things. We are reminded of our weaknesses and how hard we must work to keep ourselves straight and decent at all times.

Teshuvah brings us back to where we were before we sinned. It sets us on the path we should have been on and provides us the energy we require to be properly and thoroughly engaged. It provides us with a greater appreciation of Hashem’s role in our life and accomplishments.

Teshuvah triggers an outpouring of sincere tefillah. With a fresh awareness of how small and helpless we are in the face of life’s frightening precariousness comes a spontaneous outpouring of tefillah. We proclaim Hashem’s supremacy over all of existence, thank Him for His daily kindnesses, and beg that we merit His continued generosity.

Middos tovos are prerequisites for teshuvah, for ga’avah prevents a person from recognizing his shortcomings as well as his dependence on Hashem. A person who is caught up with himself is not able to reach the level of understanding required to draw himself closer to his Master. He wallows in sin and self-indulgence even as he goes through the motions of transformation.

Ga’avah derails an individual from properly preparing for Rosh Hashanah and from becoming a special person.

Ga’avah prevents a person from helping others. An arrogant individual looks down upon others and views them askance, with a measure of scorn and hate. His negative middah keeps him from using his gifts to help others. He views others as somehow deficient and inferior to himself.

This is what the Rambam refers to when he writes, “Baalei teshuvah darkan lihiyos shefeilim va’anavim b’yoser” (Hilchos Teshuvah 7:8).

The Gemara (Rosh Hashanah 11a) states that Rosh Hashanah is the day when Yosef was freed from the Egyptian jail, as well as the day that marked the end of crushing slavery for the Jews in Mitzrayim. Thus, in addition to being a day of judgment, Rosh Hashanah is also a day of redemption. On this day, we can all be released from enslavement to the yeitzer hora and to the web of desires. The avodas hayom and the day’s built-in redemptive power can return us to an earlier, more ennobled state.

Once a person reaches that higher level of spiritual awareness brought on by teshuvah, he realizes that he is not superior to other people, who were created just as he was, b’tzelem Elokim. He is able to better appreciate the plight of those who are in need of assistance, evoking his sympathy and compassion. As part of the spiritual growth triggered by teshuvah and tefillah, he has a growing awareness that it is not enough to care for himself and his close family. He recognizes that he can assist other people in obtaining their daily needs. His feelings of supremacy, aloofness and apathy crumble as he ponders his own inadequacies.

The baal teshuvah attains a level of contentment reserved for those who are humble and walk in the path of Hashem.

When teshuvah, tefillah and tzedakah flow, a person indicates that he has reached the level of comportment necessary to prevail in the din of Rosh Hashanah. Thus, with our hearts focused on implementing the lessons embedded in these words, we proclaim, “Useshuvah usefillah utzedakah maavirin es ro’a hagezeirah.”

We endeavor to reach that lofty level and find favor in Hashem’s eyes, so that He will bless us all with a kesivah vachasimah tovah.

Everyone essentially wants to do teshuvah and return to Hashem’s embrace, but some find it difficult to overcome their habits and the yeitzer hora, which leads them astray. They feel removed from kedusha and Torah and fear that they can never rid themselves of their addictions and sins. If they would only call out, “Hashiveini! Hashem, help me. Bring me back,” then ve’ashuvah, they would be able to return. No one should ever give up on themselves, and we should never give up on anyone.

“Zeh hayom techilas ma’asecha.” Rosh Hashanah is not just the commemoration of the first day of creation, but an opportunity to experience creation anew and in the process renew our own personal circumstances.

On Rosh Hashanah, we daven for a good new year, with beginnings that will improve upon what we experienced in the passing year. We seek to merit a year of positive developments for ourselves and our families, keeping sadness and failure in the past.

We examine ourselves and, instead of being upset that we are not as good as we would have liked to be and were not able to realize all of our goals, we recognize that just because last year didn’t turn out as we would have wanted, that doesn’t mean that we are doomed to remain in a lesser state.

Hayom haras olam. Today is the day of man’s creation. Not just back when the world was created 5,781 years ago, but also today and now. Hayom yaamid bamishpot kol yetzurei olamim. Today, the forces of creation are strongly present, as Hashem judges all His creations and decides what type of year they will have. The day of Rosh Hashanah marks a new start for everyone.

Thus, the teshuvah process begins with the days of Rosh Hashanah, reminding us that we can walk a new path. Rosh Hashanah precedes Yom Kippur because it is the day when we begin anew. The realization of the new beginning provides us with the confidence that we can undertake teshuvah and make ourselves whole once again.

Rosh Hashanah is the gift that launches us onto the path culminating with Ne’ilah on Yom Kippur. It is this awareness that allows us to believe that we can change. Everything can change. We can do it over and do much better this time.

While listening to the shofar, we hear echoes of the blasts that were sounded at Har Sinai, when Klal Yisroel was formed into the nation of Hakadosh Boruch Hu. The shofar then proclaimed a new beginning. The world had reached its destiny. Ahead was much hope and promise.

The shofar was also blown at Yovel. When we blow it on Rosh Hashanah, it hints at the independence of the Yovel year, the collective song of freedom chanted by so many released slaves going home to begin life anew. The earth, as well, joins in the process, as land returns to its original owners at Yovel. We are reminded that Rosh Hashanah affords us an opportunity to start over again.

Teshuvah is how we overcome past mistakes and begin anew unencumbered by past errors and bloopers. They do not have to be an albatross, chaining us down forever. Irrespective of what it was that hampered our growth and ability to prosper, succeed and advance in life as we had hoped, Rosh Hashanah allows us to put that behind us and begin anew, with fresh vigor and optimism for a bright and blessed future.

We can have a great year, even if last year wasn’t too good for us. We can be happy again, even if last year we were sad and depressed. Even if we didn’t learn shtark enough and weren’t able to shteig last year, that doesn’t mean that we should give up on ourselves.

This year, we start from scratch, leaving the weakness in the dust and doing our best to move ahead. If relationships were strained, we ask forgiveness and set about beginning again with the ability to do everything this time the way we wish we would have done it in the first place.

Just because we allowed ourselves to be held down last year doesn’t mean that this year cannot be the breakout year when we are finally able to access and utilize our abilities.

May this be the year we have always wished for. May all our hopes, dreams, wishes and ambitions be realized.

May we merit the ultimate new beginning and hearing the blasts of the great shofar announcing the arrival of Moshiach.

Leshanah tovah tikoseivu veseichoseimu.

Anyone Can Be Chareidi

By Rabbi Pinchos Lipschutz

Fear is a uniquely Jewish attribute.

We used to be referred to as “Ultra-Orthodox,” but now we are called “Chareidim,” loosely translated as “those who fear.” What is at the root of that designation? Is it complimentary or is the adjective meant to be derogatory?

In fact, the posuk praises people who fear. Shlomo Hamelech, the wisest of all men, states, “Ashrei odom mefacheid tomid” (Mishlei 28:24). The yorei Shomayim, the choreid ledvar Hashem, is always fearful, making sure that he lives the proper life.

We have a holy chain of fear transmitted through the generations, from rebbi to talmid and parents to children. In our generation, when yirah in the big world is all but a forgotten word unless it relates to Covid, and respect is almost gone, among Chareidim there exists a tangible fear borne of respect.

Rashi, at the beginning of this week’s parsha, offers a puzzling explanation of the juxtaposition of parshiyos (Devorim 29: 9). He quotes the Medrash which states that after Klal Yisroel heard the curses described in Parshas Ki Savo, they were so distressed and frightened that their faces turned green. They were despondent, as they feared that they were ill-equipped to observe all the Torah’s commandments and were mortified at the ramifications of non-observance.

Moshe reassured them, saying, “Atem nitzovim hayom. Although you’ve angered Hashem numerous times over the years - with the meraglim, the Eigel, and other sins - you are still standing here and haven’t been destroyed.”

At first glance, the answer seems self-defeating. Imagine a parent warning his children that if they misbehave, they will suffer serious consequences. When the children react with fright, the parent reassures them that the threat isn’t really that serious after all and brings a proof to that effect.

In last week’s parsha, the Torah relates that Moshe told the Jewish people that when they crossed the Yardein into Eretz Yisroel, they were to build a mizbei’ach upon which to offer olos and shelomim and celebrate in front of Hashem. Where was this mizbei’ach constructed? Was it on Har Grizim, the mountain upon which the brachos (blessings) were recited, or Har Eivol, where the klalos (curses) were proclaimed? Amazingly, the mizbei’ach was to be arranged on Har Eivol, the mountain of the klalos.

Meforshim explain that Divine punishment is not meant as a consequence or retribution for a sinful act. It is a tool used by a loving Father to guide His wayward children onto the correct path. What is important is that they behave properly, not the imposition of the penalty. Therefore, the korbanos were brought on Har Eivol in appreciation of the nudge reminding them to stay on the path of goodness.

Thus, it follows that when Moshe saw that following the recitation of the klalos “peneihem morikos,” their faces had changed colors, he understood that the klalos had achieved their desired effect and the people would behave properly.

This is the fear of chareidim. It is not a fear that leads to desperation, but rather a fear that leads to joy, as expressed in the posuk (Tehillim 2) which states, “Ivdu es Hashem b’yirah, vegilu biradah - Serve Hashem with fear and rejoice in trembling.” We are inspired, optimistic people. Our fear does not hold us back. It motivates us.

The mood during the days of Elul is supposed to be that of fear - fear of the impending trial we face on Rosh Hashanah. Those who tremble during Elul demonstrate through peneihem morikos that they are in tune with the time, and because they are fearful, they will merit to be vindicated on Judgment Day. The fear during Elul is not born of panic or dread, but rather reverence and awe generated by being in the presence of Hashem at a time when He is closest to us.

The holy fusion of fear and joy found amongst those who are chareidim portrays their inner faith and deep vision; the perception that fear, the peneihem morikos, is the reaction desired by Heaven. Shomayim doesn’t punish. It reminds. Ehrliche Yidden are attuned to these reminders.

Rav Isser Zalman Meltzer and his wife, Rebbetzin Baila Hinda, were joyous people, yet they lived with this awareness, an ever-present sense that the Creator is with them. One day, as the rebbetzin prepared a glass of tea for her husband, the cup suddenly shattered in her hand. Within moments, she sat down with her husband to consider why it had happened and what the message was.

“Did you perhaps display a ‘closed hand,’ not giving tzedakah when requested?” the rosh yeshiva wondered.

The rebbetzin recalled that when she was doing her shopping earlier that day in the Machane Yehudah shuk, a collector approached her for money. The rebbetzin, who only had a large bill with her, asked the poor man to wait a moment while she got change from one of the kiosks. She changed the bill into smaller denominations, but when she returned to where she encountered the beggar, he was gone.

“Yes,” concluded the rosh yeshiva, “that must be why the glass broke in your hand.”

For chachomim, reminders suffice. Dai lechakima beremiza, say Chazal. The wise man needs only a hint.

The best way to appreciate this season is to approach it as chachomim, with our eyes open and hearts awake to the messages being sent our way. It is easy to ignore them, to be apathetic or blind to the messages of Hashem. When we understand that yissurim come to strengthen us and when things don’t seem to go the way we would like it is for a reason, we are on the path of personal redemption. Peneihem morikos. The fright itself can suffice to evoke Divine mercy.

Think about it. If used correctly, fear can be the healthiest of emotions, a tool to craft a blessed new year for us and our families.

At one of his Thursday night shiurim, when all sorts of questions were welcomed from the audience, Rav Avigdor Miller explained the nature of bitachon.

“Bitachon means Hashem will take care of you if you trust in Him, but that trust requires you to do what He wants you to do, and He wants you to be ‘mefashpeish bema’asov,’ to search into your ways. Self-scrutiny is a mitzvah just like wearing tefillin is a mitzvah.

“If a man has a toothache,” continued Rav Miller, “and he goes to the dentist, and the dentist says, ‘Open wide,’ he should think, ‘Why do I have to open my mouth wide? Because I shouldn’t have opened my mouth so wide at other times. I opened my mouth against my wife; that’s why I now have to open it for the dentist. I opened my mouth against my fellow Jew, so now I have to deal with this.’”

Living with this awareness, Rav Miller was teaching, is an expression of faith. Seeing Hashem’s message in all occurrences is empowering, because it underscores how relevant our every action is and how important it is to Hashem to prod us on to the right path.

Perhaps this answers the paradox regarding the nature of Rosh Hashanah. The day contains the obligation of experiencing the joy of a Yom Tov, yet, at the same time, the fear of judgment is just as essential. We can understand it by comparing it to the fear experienced by someone who has sat in conversation with a great person. Sure, you are overcome by awe, it is sometimes difficult to speak, and you choose your words carefully, but despite that, at the same time, you feel valued and relevant when you are in the presence of greatness.

I remember when I sat with Maran Rav Elazar Menachem Man Shach for the first time after this newspaper was founded. I was very young and I was clean-shaven. Rav Shach overwhelmed me with Torah, love and guidance, and it was difficult for me to speak. The nicer he was to me, the more self-conscious I was of my youthful appearance, feeling that I was unworthy of his beneficence.

Though I was fearful in his presence, I left invigorated and charged for my mission.

When one is in the presence of greatness, especially when the great person reacts in a kind and loving fashion, one is at the same time joyful and fearful, as the posuk states, “Vegilu biradah.”

During these Elul days, it is our certainty of Hashem’s proximity and our assurance that He is listening closely that is the cause of both our simcha at the opportunity it affords and the fear of the magnitude of His power and might.

“Dirshu Hashem behimatzo - Seek out Hashem when He is accessible,” says the posuk. This is the most empowering time of the year, the exalted moments when we are being ushered into His presence. He will scrutinize our actions and seek to help us improve, but by being vigilant and attuned to His will, we ask that He give us the opportunity to improve without being rebuked or disciplined.

We say twice daily in L’Dovid, “Hashem ori veyishi mimi ira.” What we are saying is that Hashem illuminates the path before us, helping us identify mistakes we have made, and “veyishi,” enabling us to patch things up. As He helps us do teshuvah, straighten out our lives, and return to His embrace, “mimi ira,” we need not fear that people will harm us.

The Gemara in Maseches Chagigah (5b) relates that Rav Papa said, “Ein atzvus lifnei Hakadosh Boruch Hu - There is no grief in Hakadosh Boruch Hu’s presence.” Now that we are in the period when we are closest to Hashem, there should be no grief, even as we approach the Day of Judgment, when all of mankind will undergo Heavenly scrutiny.

We are all faced with problems and wonder how we can deal with and overcome them. Know that you are not alone. Hashem is right there, alongside you, guiding and assisting you as you seek to find your way in the darkness. He is there all year, yet He is even closer during these days of Elul and the coming Aseres Yemei Teshuvah.

Don’t be despondent. Don’t think that the job is too difficult for you. Don’t think that you can’t overcome the nisyonos that you are faced with. Don’t worry that you won’t succeed in doing proper teshuvah for your aveiros. Don’t think that you won’t be able to bring yourself to the level that will ensure that you emerge zakai in din.

Those who fear Hashem feel Him. Those who fear Hashem merit His closeness. Those who fear Hashem know that He is there with them, helping them approach Him.

Everyone can be a Chareidi, no matter how they dress, where they live or what they do for a living.

May we all merit to be Chareidim, people who fear Hashem, and emerge meritorious on the Yom Hadin.

The Solution

By Rabbi Pinchos Lipschutz

Parshas Ki Savo opens with the mitzvah of bikkurim. Through this mitzvah and the rich symbolism of the mitzvos surrounding it, we are taught how to achieve happiness.

After months of working in his field and orchard, a farmer takes the first fruits of his harvest and sets out for Yerushalayim. When he arrives there, he meets up with a kohein, approaches the mizbei’ach in the Bais Hamikdosh and recites the pesukim that recall the trials that Yaakov Avinu endured, followed by our forefathers’ suffering in Mitzrayim.

While there, he relates how Hashem rescued the Jewish people with scores of miracles and led us to the Promised Land, which flows with milk and honey.

Following that, the man presents the fruits of his labors to the kohein and returns home. He is then ready for the next part of the mitzvah, “Vesomachta bechol hatov.” There is a specific mitzvah to rejoice with all the goodness that Hashem has blessed him with.

The obligation to be thankful for our blessings Hashem has bestowed upon us, and to contrast that goodness with the difficult time that preceded it, appears to be the key to happiness. It is by approaching our situation in life with this perspective that we can merit happiness.

The path to happiness and fulfillment is often strewn with hardship. A person who works the fields is a perfect illustration of this dynamic.

First, the farmer spends hours working his fields as the blistering sun beats down on him. After months of hard work, his orchard begins yielding fruit, which he can harvest to feed his family and sell for a profit. Yet, before he can do anything, he must tie a ribbon around the first fruits to bloom. He then must take a trip and bring them to Yerushalayim as bikkurim.

The Torah instructs him to think back to the bitter days that Yaakov Avinu spent at the home of his father-in-law, Lovon, and to the period of slavery we endured in Mitzrayim.

Bringing bikkurim forced people in the time of the Bais Hamikdosh to reflect on the good in their life. Too often, people concentrate only on the negative. They complain about how hard they struggle to make a living. People fail to thank Hashem that they have a job and a boss who guarantees them a salary. Those who live in an agrarian economy don’t always appreciate that they have a plot of land on which to grow their fruit and may complain about all the chores that they must perform in order for their orchard to produce healthy fruit.

The mitzvah of bikkurim forces a person to revisit the first days of the season when he planted one of the shivah minim, not knowing if the seeds would take root or if the trees would bear fruit. It forces him to be thankful that, despite all the potential for ruin, in the end, Hashem helped him bring forth a good crop.

In Yerushalayim, he stands at the mizbei’ach and reflects on the mixture of hard and good times that the Jewish people have experienced throughout the ages.

As we approach Rosh Hashanah and examine how the year went, we too, must contemplate the hard times we all went through along with the good, examining our lives to measure how far we’ve come over the course of time.

We face challenges. There are times when we feel as if we are backed into a corner with no means of escape. Some have a tendency to think that their problems are insurmountable and submit to despair.

A man once went to the Tchebiner Rov. He had a terrible problem and complained that he could not go on with life. The rov told him a story. He said that it happened on Erev Yom Kippur that a man was holding a chicken in one hand for Kapparos. In his other hand, he was holding a siddur. As he began swinging the chicken and reading from the siddur, his glasses fell off.

The man didn’t know what to do. If he put down the chicken to pick up his glasses, the chicken would run away. Chas veshalom, he would never put a siddur on the ground. He couldn’t see without his glasses, and if he left the spot, besides that he wouldn’t see where he’s going, the glasses would likely be stepped on by someone else and become broken. What should he do?

The man with the problem said to the rov, “I give up. What did the man do?”

The Tchebiner Rov said to him, “I don’t know what he did, but I guarantee you that he isn’t standing there anymore. Problems have solutions. Change your attitude and you’ll figure out what to do.”

For someone facing a challenge, the problem seems so overwhelming and daunting, but we have to remember that the Ribono Shel Olam has no limitations. However large the issue seems to the person who is experiencing it and to those who love and care about him, in essence, to the Creator who can fix it all, it is not a big deal.

We get upset and we become miserable when we become trapped by the moment and cannot look past it. We get locked in the moment. We get locked in the problem. We have to know that if we have the right attitude and bitachon, we will find a solution.

Great men always knew how to view what was before them not as isolated incidents, but as part of something bigger. They knew that what was happening in their lives was part of an evolving process put in place by the Ribono Shel Olam. They knew that what was happening on a national and international level was a manifestation of history unfolding, orchestrated by the Creator.

Such people don’t become disheartened when they face struggles. They are cognizant of the fact that Klal Yisroel and its people march to their destiny on a long, winding road, sometimes in the sun, other times in the shade. There are storms of snow and others of rain; avalanches and slides, hurricanes, earthquakes and typhoons. But we continue on the path, irrespective of what is thrown in the way.

The great gaon, Rav Mordechai Pogromansky, represented the greatness of Torah, its chachomim, and bnei Torah. Even as he was locked in the Kovno ghetto, with death, destruction and deprivation all around him, Rav Pogromansky never lost his inner calm, which he attained through his deep emunah and bitachon. He remained devoted to Torah and giving chizuk to those around him. With the Jews walled into a small area, constantly patrolled by vicious Nazis, he would tell those who would gather around him that he didn’t see the German beasts who were everywhere. “I don’t see Germans all around us… I see pesukim of the Torah [from the Tochacha] surrounding the ghetto.”

He saw what was transpiring as the realization of the pesukim in this week’s parsha that we read softly. He saw those words coming to life. He was at peace because he knew that all that was going on, as awful as it was, in actuality were the pesukim of Tanach having grown skin, bones and muscle. He didn’t see Germans. He didn’t fear Germans. He saw and feared Hashem. He knew that whatever was going to happen was going to be carried out by the Ribono Shel Olam, and if he was supposed to live, he would live, no matter what those whose “pihem diber shov” would say or do.

Bombs were falling, devastation and hunger were his daily companions, yet this great soul, with depth, sensitivity and brilliance sensed the stark clarity of the pesukim of the Tochacha and the reality as expressed by the Torah. Everything around him was merely a reflection of that reality, a cause and effect built into creation by the Ribono Shel Olam.

He carried out the teaching expressed in Orchos Chaim LehoRosh (100) which states, “Al tevahel ma’asecha.” Even in a time of confusion and commotion, remain calm and composed.

This lesson was the epitome of Kelmer mussar, though we need not be a student of Kelm to conduct ourselves in that manner. The Alter of Kelm instituted the recital of Orchos Chaim LehoRosh in his yeshiva each morning following Shacharis. With deep concentration and the sincerity that defined them, the Kelmer talmidim would repeat in unison verses from the sefer, inculcating within themselves these timeless teachings. Other yeshivos have come to follow that custom during the month of Elul.

Al tevahel ma’asecha. Tunnel vision forces a person to panic, while the ability to understand that there is a bigger picture at play offers serenity. The knowledge that everything that is taking place is the fulfillment of pesukim enables a person to live a life of calmness and serenity no matter what is happening around him.

Every Shabbos morning, in the tefillah of Nishmas, we thank Hashem for saving us from “choloyim ro’im vene’emonim,” faithful, bad diseases. What type of illness is faithful? To what and to whom is the illness faithful?

In the Tochacha (28:59), the posuk speaks of “makkos gedolos vene’emanos,” great and faithful blows, and “choloyim roim vene’emonim,” great and faithful illnesses. The Gemara says in Maseches Avodah Zarah (55a) that before a person becomes ill, the Ribono Shel Olam makes the illness take an oath that it will leave the person’s body at the proper time. When a person becomes afflicted with an illness, the illness is sworn to the number of days it will reside within that person, the degree of pain it will cause, and instructions about when it will leave. When the illness promises to follow its instructions, it is dispatched to the person’s body.

When people are sick and suffering, they can become despondent and think that they will never be cured. They fear that they will never again be happy and pain-free. Chazal teach that sickness, like everything else in this world, is the result of a Divine plan. The amount the sick person suffers is planned. Hashem spares us of any pain beyond what has been prescribed for us.

Veho’ikar lo lefacheid klal. Daunting as it seems, hard as the situation appears, we should never forget that nothing occurs by happenstance.

When we think about what has been going on since Purim this year, it can be frightening, unless we understand the struggles in light of a bigger picture. Rav Mordechai Pogromansky recognized in the destruction a harbinger of hope, because the pesukim of the Tochacha were being realized. Everything was going according to plan.

Yaakov Avinu, the av who is identified with golus, the father who led his children into Mitzrayim, taught us an enduring lesson. He knew where his children were headed, but he had the foresight to bring along cedar trees as he went into exile. It was from those arazim trees that the Mishkon was constructed.

With those arazim, Yaakov didn’t only bring the physical timber his offspring would require to build a heavenly abode in the desert. He also taught them a lesson that would carry them through golus. Light follows darkness as assuredly as day follows night. There will be destruction, but it will be followed by rebirth.

Better times will come for those who don’t lose hope. The Chasam Sofer in parshas Bechukosai foretold that Tof-Shin-Pey would be a rough year, and he said that the year that follows will be one of blessing. May we all merit to enjoy many brachos in the coming year.

We study the parsha of bikkurim prior to Rosh Hashanah to encourage us not to despair and to always maintain our belief in Hashem, even on the dark days when the land lies fallow and an unbelieving person would give up all hope of ever growing anything.

The courage to keep up the struggle is the theme of Elul. We need to maintain our faith as we experience this internal turbulence. Hakadosh Boruch Hu says to us, “Pischu li pesach kefishcho shel machat va’ani eftach lochem pesach kefischo shel ulam.” We have to open the door, we have to plant the seed, we have to take the trip to Yerushalayim, and Hashem will do the rest.

Living in troubled, turbulent times, we have to maintain our faith and seek to persevere and do the right thing, no matter how difficult the challenge.

We must continue to constantly scrutinize our actions, always aiming to improve. We have to remember arami oveid avi and the avdus in Mitzrayim in order to absorb Hakadosh Boruch Hu’s mercy and kindness in accepting our tefillos and rescuing us from that awful place.

Just as He saved our fathers, He looks out for us and aids us in our daily battles and struggles if we remain staunch in our faith and do not allow setbacks to derail us.

We should all see our problems for what they are - temporary obstacles arranged by a knowing and loving Father. They can and will be overcome.

May we all merit to be inscribed for a happy, healthy and successful new year.